


you were never on your own

by xxPayne



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Anxiety Disorder, Happy Ending, M/M, No Smut, Panic Attacks, louis/harry if you squint, there's barely a kiss I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxPayne/pseuds/xxPayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's one big contradiction, really. Liam can't bear to be alone, but he can't handle people either.<br/>Or, Liam has panic attacks and he's convinced no one likes him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you were never on your own

**Author's Note:**

> I made up a lot of stuff about Liam's childhood, and for the purpose of this story he never had any problems with his kidney. And I forgot about his sisters, I guess.  
> This is the first thing I've written since I stopped writing for two years, so major apologies if it's bad! Not beta'd (hint hint). Title from Don't Forget Where You Belong.  
> (Shh, I know that Thanksgiving is an American holiday. Ignore that and embrace the US holiday spirit.)

_When Liam is turning eight years old, he invites all of his classmates to his birthday party in the McDonalds playland. He excitedly hands out bright yellow invitations with big smiley faces on the front to each and everyone in homeroom class. He smiles happily at all of them as he tells everyone exactly where and when his party will be. He doesn't bother telling them to RSVP (mostly because he doesn't really know what that means) and tells them just to show up at one o'clock sharp, Saturday afternoon._

_The party is about to begin, so Liam slips off his shoes and gleefully tells his mum that he's going to go play in the tunnels until everyone gets there. He loses track of time while he plays alone. The few kids that were already there when Liam arrived keep to themselves, and soon enough he gets bored. He slides down the slide and expects to see his mum chatting with one of his classmates' mums. He thinks that maybe they're clinging to their mum's leg, scared to come find Liam and play._

_When he gets there, though, his mum is sitting alone, on the phone with someone. He hears “No one is here,” and “what am I supposed to tell him?”_

_More than the immanent sadness he feels, Liam is crushed with the feeling of loneliness. He knows that he doesn't have a best friend like everyone else, but he thought somebody would come to his party. Liam feels like he's choking; his chest is burning with pain and he's quite possibly drowning in sadness. His mum sees him standing there and quickly says goodbye to whoever she was on the phone with. She smiles but it seems wrong. “Hey, honey, have fun?”_

_Liam would never admit this, but he can feel tears springing in the corners of his eyes. “Please take me home, mummy.”_

_He never forgets how lonely he felt. How small and weak and alone, with only his mum to block him from the harsh world. He just wanted some one to be there. To care even a little bit. He'd thought maybe that one dimpled, curly-haired boy named Harry would be there. Or Niall, the loud brunette with dreams of being a rock star. Never Louis, though, never the loud, funny, bright-eyed boy who has never once looked at the lonely boy in the corner. Liam just thought,_ stupidly _, that something would change his mind and he'd want to be best friends forever with Liam. Stupid._

**XXX**

“Mum?” Liam speaks quietly into the cell phone. He's trying not to wake up his cat, an orange tabby named Topaz—he'd thought that _orange_ colored topaz must be feeling insignificant compared to the wildly popular _blue_ topaz, so that's what he named his cat—because her eyes were squinted in relaxation, in a way only cats can make look truly relaxed. Liam doesn't know when his life got so lonely that he's worried about waking up his cat.

“Hi, honey!” he can feel his mum smiling through the phone.

“Hi... Um, I have some bad news,” he takes a breath of air. “There's a blizzard going on right now, and my flight got snowed out. The next one isn't until tomorrow.”

“But today is thanksgiving!” his mother gasps and then sighs. “What if I drive there? If I leave right now you can make it home in time!” she cheerily suggests.

Liam wishes with all his might that the snow will suddenly clear out and he'll get to see his family again. He hasn't seen his mum's face in months, aside from blurry video chats. He's never regretted moving to London more than he does now. “Mum, it's not safe. If they closed the airports, you shouldn't be on the streets!”

He knows his mum is wearing _that_ expression again. The “Liam, I am your mother, and I am the most stubborn person on earth” look. Liam doesn't need to see her face to know that.

“Look, I'll be home before Christmas, and you can set the laptop at the end of the table and we can video chat while you guys eat your fancy turkey and I eat my canned green beans and soup.” I laugh.

There's nothing more to say, but they argue about it (without any real malice) for at least ten more minutes. After, Liam's mum reluctantly agrees to see him after Thanksgiving. They talk for a while, until Liam looks at the clock and sees that he's got ten minutes to get to work. “I have to go, I'll call you tonight, okay? Love you.”

Liam's mum says it back and hangs up. Liam quickly throws on a sweater and some jeans, hurrying to shove his phone and wallet into his back pocket. He makes sure Topaz has food and water, pats her on the head and frowns at her sad meow. Routine. Liam has always loved routine. It helps the days pass, helps him make reason for why he's alone ninety percent of the time. (Liam has friends. He just sometimes feels like they have more fun without him there, so he makes excuses to stay home alone. Its perhaps not the best course of action, but it's the safest.)

His phone makes a tinkling sound to alert him that he's gotten a text, but Liam doesn't stop to look at it before walking out the front door and heading towards the bakery he works at. The smell of freshly baked bread and warm coffee fills his senses as he walks through the door. An old fashioned bell jingles behind him, making his boss, Louis Tomlinson, the bastard Liam fancied all through primary school— _definitely_ not still—pop up from behind the counter with bright eyes, not unlike the one's he had as a child, just slightly more subdued. Only slightly.

“Liam! Thought you'd never show,” Louis smirks. “Clock in and then get working on the cupcakes for that birthday party, yeah?”

“Wait, um, Harry told me that he'd do them, 'cause I'm not good at the colorful stu—”

“No, you do them. Harry's out sick today; little shit's probably faking it, but.” Louis shrugs in a 'what-can-you-do?' fashion. “So you'll have to.”

Liam begins to protest again, but stops himself mid-way through. He hates being a bother. So he forces a smile and punches his time into the little machine by the door to the kitchen. When he's done, he resignedly walks into the kitchen and stares forlornly at the flour sitting in front of him. He smiles at the only other person in the room, Niall, who'd fought tooth-and-nail against Louis for the manager position, but never complains about still only working behind the counter. His work ethic is amazing, even if he does steal biscuits and pastries from the counter when he thinks no one is looking.

“Hey mate,” Niall grins. “Texted you this morning.”

Liam remembers the pinging in his pocket and bites the inside of his cheek. “Sorry, I was running late. What did it say?”

Niall pauses from where he's cracking an egg into a ceramic bowl to make eye contact. “Just wondering if you want to go to the pub tonight? Everyone's going home for the holidays, and I heard you were staying in town.”

“Oh, uh,” Liam sighs. “Um, no, I'm supposed to call my mum tonight.” It's a terrible excuse. Liam should know, he's been making them for years.

“If you don't want to go to the pub, just say so,” Niall never falters, never feels embarrassed. Liam is jealous. “We ca' stay in if you want?”

The thing is, Liam can't think of a time when there wasn't this crushing feeling of loneliness weighing down on his heart. He could, he supposes, fix it by going places with people when they invite him, but he's too scared that once they see Liam for himself, a depressing fuck, they'll leave him. He knows this is stupid because all he ends up doing is pushing people away and making them feel like _Liam_ is the one that doesn't like _them_. Ridiculous. Liam knows Niall will give up asking him to go places soon enough, so he says, stumbling over his words, “Um, yes. Yeah. I'll, uh, my flat? Or, um. God.”

The only way Liam can describe what he does in these situations is saying that he collapses into himself. He clasps his fingers together and squeezes his eyes shut, even bending over a bit to quite literally fold himself into pieces so he'll take up less space and be less annoying and _wow, shit._ “'m sorry, uh, never-never mind, um. Never mind. Sorry.”

For one horrible moment, Liam thinks he might start crying, or have a panic attack, and he can't, he can't. He can't get a grasp on any kind of calmness that he should be feeling right now. He hates this. He hates not being able to control himself because it's _fucking stupid_. No sane person has a panic attack over a mate asking to go out for drinks.

Liam thinks he mumbles something similar to “sorry” and runs out the backdoor that leads to an alleyway. He gasps for air and falls on his bum, leaning against the brick wall to steady himself. The ground is covered in snow, but there's a small awning attached to the roof that leaves a clear spot of dirt for him to sit on. Liam recognizes with vague interest a lone brown leaf, the only one not buried in snow. He tucks his knees against his chest and wraps his arms around them. Staring at the leaf intently, Liam tries to block out the rest of the world. The sounds of cars turn into background noise, and the frigid air gets disregarded. Finally, it's peaceful.

The door behind him squeaks, and then silences. “Liam?” he hears. “God, it's fucking cold. Are you alright? Do you need to go home?”

It's Louis, of course it is. He's the only one on good enough terms with the owner of the bakery to let all his employees take the day off all the time. Liam has no idea how he managed to beat Niall for the manager position; he has the sneaking suspicion that he shagged the owner. (The only time he'd ever seen the owner, Greg James, and Louis together, he thought he saw them rubbing each others thighs, but he hadn't been too sure. With all the slacking off Louis does, he knows now that it did happen, or Louis would've been fired by now.)

Liam takes one long breath to stabilize himself, and then says, “No, I'll—I'll be in in a second.”

Louis sighs and walks closer, shutting the rusty door behind him. He sits down next to Liam and crosses his legs. It's silent for a bit, while Liam tries to calm himself down, all the while feeling terribly sorry for himself. Then, Louis says, “I had a panic attack once.”

Liam holds back a snort. Self-confident, nearly _arrogant_ , Louis having a panic attack?

Louis catches hold of Liam's snort and laughs indignantly. “No, its true! High school freshman orientation, 2005,” he says. “They packed all five hundred freshman into the tiny gym, and it was in the middle of august, so it was fucking _hot_. We were all sitting on the bleachers while the principle played loud pop music, trying to get us, and I quote, _pumped up_.”

Both boys laugh, Louis in remembrance and Liam in imagination. “And they were making us do this chant, with knee slapping and high-fiving, and if you didn't do it, you had to do the chicken dance in front of everyone,” Louis shakes his head and continues. “Anyway, so they were making us chant, and then all of the sudden my whole body started to tingle, and my chest felt like it was on fire, and everything just hurt, you know? Or, well, of course you know.”

Finishing his story, he says, “Some girl next to me called a teacher over because she thought I was having a heart attack.”

The story served its purpose; Liam felt less alone. In the crisp winter air, a sense of belonging was circling around Liam, tying him to Louis with a bond of friendship. Perhaps, if he wasn't so lonely, Liam would try to stop this from happening, as this made him more vulnerable than ever before.

“What did the teacher do?” Liam asks hesitantly.

The grin Louis shoots him is blinding. “Called my mum and told her to come pick me up.”

Liam thinks that if he smokes, this would be when he blows out the smoke and makes it look bad ass. He doesn't, though, so he doesn't know why he's thinking about it.

“Okay, um, I can work now.” Liam smiles slightly, making Louis hop up and give him a hand. Liam takes it, and shuffles his feet until he can get his bearings. Louis tells Liam that he has to start brewing the coffee, and stands on his tiptoes so he can kiss Liam's forehead.

“Better?” he asks. Liam nods, because its true.

They walk back inside the bakery, and once again Liam is hit with the smell of fresh bread. This time, though, its mixed with the scent of icing. Before he started working here, he wouldn't have been able to register the soft smell over the over-powering bread, but he's able to sift through these things now. It makes him proud, in a way, because it's progress. Liam loves progress.

“Liam?” It's Niall, speaking in a quiet voice that Liam didn't even know he was capable of.

Liam picks his head up from where he's staring intently at his shoes. “Hi, Niall,” he whispers. “Um, if you still want to, do. Anything. Uh, tonight. I'll. Yeah.”

Niall smiles brightly at him and there's no need for him to say anything, but he excitedly rambles about a movie he illegally downloaded anyway. “It's sweet, Liam, I already watched it last night, but we are so watching this again tonight.”

Liam giggles and gets to work, having already wasted so much time. He's happier now than he was when he walked in the door, so he thinks maybe he can make the children cupcakes. He doesn't have to, as it turns out, because Niall is already making them. Niall cuts him off before he can say thank you properly, spewing out more comments about the movie they'll be watching tonight.

Liam nods accordingly, and laughs when Louis jumps in to yell at Niall for illegally downloading movies. “You can't get arrested, where else am I going to find someone I can overwork the hell out of?” he says.

They can feel the fun being sucked out of the room when they hear the bell ring out front. Louis rolls his eyes and makes a strangled-sort of noise, and drags himself dramatically to the kitchen door. “Liam, just mix up some more banana nut muffins for now,” Louis instructs. “And then we're trading jobs, you'll be at the counter. I'm sick of that shit.”

Liam finds himself nodding. Even though he has to talk to strangers, he likes being behind the counter. It's routine words (“good morning, what would you like today?”) and Liam really does like routine.

“Um, do you. Just, uh, want to trade now?”

“Damn, I wish, but the boss man is coming in today to check on things, and I have to be fully engaged with both my employees and my customers,” Louis says disdainfully. “Or I can kiss my job goodbye.”

Liam wants to ask if they stopped sleeping together, but the words feel sticky in his mouth and he knows that saying the question out loud would be a bad decision. “O-Okay.”

Louis smiles and waves at Liam and Niall one last time, and then skips out the kitchen door. Liam pulls out the supplies for banana nut muffins, and sighs for no actual reason.

**XXX**

_The bell has rung, and Liam has never been more ready to go home in his life. He's rushing, accidentally bumping into people on his way to the front of the school, where his mum's car is waiting for him. His plans are crushed when there's a loud voice behind him. “Liam! Hey, wait up.”_

_Liam freezes. It sounds like a friendly enough statement, but he knows better. He knows that it's that group of boys that_ always _pick on him. The teachers never pick up on it. In fact, they think Liam is friends with them. As if._

_Speeding up his walk, Liam ducks down and tries to blend into the crowd. To no avail, as always. They catch up to him, calling him things like “gay” and “fatty” under their breath so no one other than Liam can hear. He_ hates _this. He doesn't understand why they say these things, he doesn't know why the teachers can't tell that its happening right beneath their noses, and he doesn't know why he can't just tell someone. He'd tried, once, in fourth grade. He walked up to his favorite teacher, a kind brunette lady named Miss Melanie, and attempted to say, “There have been some people bullying me,” but instead all that comes out is “Um, have a n-nice weekend, Miss Melanie.” It was only Tuesday._

_Liam manages to lose the guys, which makes him breath a huge sigh of relief. He can see his mum's black mini van waiting out front, and she waves at him happily when she sees him walk out the door. He smiles back and quickly walks over to her. He doesn't care what people say (lie) he'll never ignore his mum's smiles._

_He throws his backpack next to his feet and slides into the passenger seat. “Hi, mum. How was your day?” he asks, because he wants to hear about it. Talking to his mum has always helped lessen the ever-present weight on his chest. He knows it's stupid, though. Every other nine (and a quarter!) year old in the world would be trying to pull away from their parents, but here Liam is, only getting closer. He doesn't know if that's a good thing or not._

_“Not bad. How was school?”_

_Liam sighs. He doesn't like when his mum changes the conversation so that it's all about him. He doesn't want to talk about his day, he really doesn't. Of course he would never say this out loud, so he pastes on a fake smile and says, “Yeah, it was fine. I have a lot of homework, though.”_

_“Hard or easy?”_

_“I don't know? Easy, I guess.” Liam huffs, not liking how their conversation is sounding so superficial. “Did something happen?” he finds himself asking, thinking maybe she was too focused on something else to talk to Liam whole-heartedly._

_His mum taps her fingers on the steering wheel rapidly. “Let's talk about it at home, okay, baby?”_

_Liam's breath cuts off in panic, but he doesn't let it show. He knows that it's probably nothing, although it could just as easily be something horrible. “O-O-Okay, mum.”_

_The rest of the car ride (which is only another two minutes) is silent, the tension tangible. Finally they arrive at home, making Liam quickly grab his backpack and unlock the front door, holding it open for his mum. She smiles, but it seems weak, somehow. Liam is kicking himself that he didn't notice something was wrong when she first picked him up for school._

_When they step into the living room, Liam's dad is sitting on the couch, texting. He looks up when they walk in, and Liam notices that his eyes are bloodshot, like he'd been crying. Liam whips his head around to look at his mum, and she looks even more upset now than before._

_They motion for Liam to sit down, so he does, cautiously. They sit on either side of him, and won't look at each other._

_“Liam, we've, uh, got a few things to tell you,” his dad says. Liam shrugs, like 'go ahead'._

_His parents exchange a look, making Liam increasingly nervous. He shifts in his seat, sticking his hands under his thighs and then pulling them out again._

_Finally, his mum speaks up. “You're going to have a baby brother or sister.”_

_Liam's confused frown slowly melts into a grin. “Really? Oh my god!” he smiles and turns around to look at his mum. “Mum, you're pregnant?”_

_He's expecting a big smile, but instead she looks like she's about to burst into tears. His dad looks_ guilty _, and Liam is once again confused. His mum sighs and says, “No, I'm not pregnant. Your father is, erm,_ expecting _, a child with another woman.”_

_Liam doesn't expect the news, sure, but more than that, he doesn't expect the boiling rage that bubbles up from his chest. He's never felt anger this intense before, and all he wants to do is scream. So, well, he does. He's nine, can you expect him to hold back?_

_He stands up and leans so close to his dad's face that Liam can feel his own spit hitting his father's cheek when he starts to yell. “You son of a bitch, you cheated on my mum? What the fuck is wrong with you, you goddamn fucking asshole!” He just keeps screaming. He can't stop. “I never want to see you again!” (Liam doesn't understand why he said that. He doesn't swear. Ever. He hates even hearing people swear, it makes him feel jittery and anxious like he's doing something wrong by even being in the vicinity. But in that moment, he can't hold back.)_

_He glares long and hard at his dad, watching as his mouth flounders open and closed, no words coming out. Liam shakes his head and storms out the front door, loudly kicking the door frame before slamming the it shut._

_He doesn't know where he's going, he just knows that he needs to get_ out _. He's swiping tears he didn't know were falling out of his eyes and blindly running across the street to a park. It was a park in the literal sense, no playground equipment in sight. There is a few picnic tables, and a lot of parking spots. The grass is slowly dying due to the fall weather._

_Liam makes his way to one of the picnic tables and collapses into it. He buries his head into his arms and bites back sobs. He can't stop imagining his dad with another woman. Is she blonde? Is she short? Is she young or old or black or white or married or single? Did she know his dad was cheating on his wife? Was she bothered? Did they even use a condom or did they just not care?_

_Awful, wracking sobs are escaping his mouth against his will; his whole body is moving with them. His cell phone is ringing in his pocket, no doubt his mum. He reaches in, pulls it out, and slams it into the table. Liam immediately feels bad, since his mum had paid a lot of money for it. (he doesn't want to think about the fact that his dad had paid for it too.)_

_Suddenly there's a person sliding into the seat across from him. Liam doesn't want to look up, for fear that it's a creepy stranger or, worse, his dad._

_“Um, hello.” a voice whispers. The boy sounds the same age as Liam, so he raises his head a little and stares at him. He can't force a smile, but the boy across from him can. And Liam can't believe he's thinking about it, but he is_ cute _. “I'm Zayn.”_

_Liam does smile, now, because the boy—Zayn—just looks so. Warm, would be how Liam describes him, but that sounds odd, so he doesn't even let himself think it. “I-I'm Liam.” he says, but doesn't offer anything else to the conversation._ At least I'm not crying anymore _, he thinks with a sigh._

_Zayn hesitantly reaches out and pats Liam on the arm. “Want to talk about_ it _or something else?”'_

_Liam is stunned into silence. “Uh—Um. Erm. No, uh. Don't want to t-talk about it.”_

_After a few minutes of Zayn attempting to make small talk, Liam blurts out, “My dad cheated on my mum and got some chick pregnant.” Both boys sit there quietly. Neither of them know what to say._

_“That's. God, Liam, that's awful.”_

_“Yeah, um, it is.”_

**XXX**

Liam is tired. He can't say that he's exhausted, because that's too extreme, and he can't say that he's sleepy, because that isn't extreme enough. But he's _tired,_ and he knows he won't be able to shake the feeling no matter how many hours he sleeps.

He hits the play button on his voice mail because it's blinking with alertness (his home phone was the first thing he bought, and he got a package deal with his cell phone, ok?) and pulls his shirt off. He cracks his back and quickly changes into sweat pants while the machine says, “You have _three_ new messages.”

Liam sighs and opens the fridge to pour himself some orange juice. Topaz struts over to him and bumps his shin with her forehead. He reaches down to pet her for a second, making her purr happily. After getting her fix, she scampers back out of the room, probably to go hide under Liam's bed.

“Hey hey hey, Liam, it's Drew!” (Liam audibly groans) “Your mum just told me you aren't going to be home tomorrow, so happy thanksgiving anyway, big brother! Love you, dude!”

It's all said in song, and Liam, once again, groans. Drew, his half-brother, is _drunk_. Fucking drunk, at raging, loud, teenage house party. Of course, Liam has drunk-dialed before, so he doesn't know why he's so bothered by this. Everything Drew does makes Liam mad. Even his _breathing patterns_ make him angry.

He doesn't even bother grabbing a cup before chugging orange juice right out of the carton. It's his own damn orange juice, he'll do what he pleases with it.

“You have _two_ new messages.”

“Liam! Broth'a! You got my message, right? Right? No! You're at work! I get free coffee if I go in there. What about donuts, do I get those t—” the message cuts off with what sounds like the phone being dropped onto the ground. Liam can't stop sighing.

“You have _one_ new message.”

“Sorry Li-Li, phone just slipped out of my hand, there! Anyways, just calling to say that I love y—” Liam storms into the living room and rips the cord out of the wall before Drew can finish his sentence. He feels like screaming, but that would be uncalled for. It's not Drew's fault that he was dad is a cheating tosser. It's not Drew's fault that he wanted to have fun on the holidays. And it's definitely not Drew's fault that he's got more friends than Liam; someone to invite him to annoyingly deafening parties.

Liam collapses onto the couch and throws his head in his hands. He wants to go to sleep, but he already made plans with Niall. He just sits there, though, with his large hands covering his face while he, embarrassingly, holds back tears. He doesn't know _why_ he's crying, just knows that he is.

After a few minutes of choking back not-quite sobs, Liam wipes his eyes and pulls out his cell phone to send Niall a text saying, _hey u cn come ovr nw._ And then another, _i mean if u stil wnt 2._ Niall says he'll be there in twenty minutes. He decides to call his mum, so he doesn't have to do it later.

The phone rings five long times before she comes on the phone, sounding frazzled. “Hi, honey!” she cries. “This turkey just doesn't taste as good without you making the gravy.”

Liam looks down at his hands sadly. He almost pulls out his laptop to check and see if the airlines are flying again, but he knows that even if they were, he wouldn't have time to get back home and eat dinner with his family.

“I wish I was there,” Liam pouts. “Maybe I'll make a turkey sandwich.”

Liam's mum laughs. “Oh, you're probably going to a party tonight anyhow.”

“Nope, just having a friend over. Niall. I brought him home last thanksgiving, remember?”

“Oh, Niall! Such a sweet boy,” Liam's mum snorts. “Well, if you forget him hiding some bread rolls under his shirt even though I told him to take as many as he wants.”

Liam laughs in remembrance. He knows exactly what his mum is going to say next, so he isn't even surprised when she asks, “You guys are, you know, more than friends, yeah?”

“No, mum,” Liam rolls his eyes even though she can't see him. “Just friends. I would've told you if we were more, you know that.”

Liam doesn't much like talking about his sexuality, even to his supportive mum, because to him it's a bit embarrassing that he's twenty one years old and still only out as gay to her. His friends, his half-brother, his co-workers, none of them know. He's never had a boyfriend (unless you count Andy, in ninth grade, who really only dated him to get closer to Liam's then-friend, Maz, and was sadly disappointed when he realized that Maz was very much straight), barely even had a first kiss. It's embarrassing.

“Well, maybe you could pull some moves on him.”

“Mum! Pull some moves? When have I ever _pulled some moves_?”

“Honey, there's a first time for everything.”

“Mum, that's—” Liam starts, but gets cut off by his front door opening.

“Liam, I'm coming in, you better not be wanking!” Niall yells, giggling when he notices that Liam was sitting right there.

Liam's eyes widen and he covers his phone with his hand while whisper-yelling, “It's my mum!” Niall just bounces over to the couch, throwing a pizza box, a couple video games, and a CD with the title of a movie written on in sharpie, onto the coffee table.

Niall successfully pulls the phone out of Liam's hand, despite his best effort, and says, “'ello, Karen! Don't worry, Liam was _not_ wanking!”

The blush on Liam's cheeks flourishes, and suddenly he's sure he looks like a tomato. “I am so sorry, mum. It's Niall. Um, I have to call you back, we're having a, erm, movie night, I guess.”

Liam's mum is choking out small bouts of laughter, nearly silent (which means she found the whole ordeal so hilarious that she can't find the breath to properly laugh) while she says, “Sure, baby, have fun!” and then the line is clicking off and Liam doesn't know how he's going to bear being away from his mum for another two weeks.

But then Niall is situating himself _right next_ _to_ Liam, so close that he can smell his aftershave, and Liam can't really complain about this either. It's not that he _like_ likes Niall, but he likes him. He likes being around him. Niall is reaching over and opening the pizza box, waving a piece at Liam. “Want some?” he asks around his own pizza slice.

Liam shrugs and gets one himself. He's not that hungry, but he can't ever pass up free food. “Um, do you—do you want me to turn on the m-movie?” Liam asks. He doesn't know why he's stuttering. It's just Niall, and the situation isn't stressful in the slightest. He guesses he should be used to this by now, but he isn't.

“Yeah,” Niall answers. “I'd do it me'self, but I've got food all over me.”

Liam smiles that crinkly eyed smile that happens whenever he can feel himself start to relax. He gets up and attempts to open the CD case without getting pizza sauce and grease all over it. He pulls his laptop up from the coffee table, settling it on top of Niall's right thigh and Liam's left. He wipes his hands on his pants as an afterthought, and slides the CD into the slot. Once it's loaded up, Liam whips his head around to look at Niall's face.

“Um, Niall. What. What is this.”

“Gay movie, why?”

“Well, um. Uh. You s-said we were going—going to watch an a-action movie.”

“Last minute change. We can watch something else if you're uncomfortable.”

Liam doesn't know what to say, he's just thinking this is all a huge joke; that Niall found out, somehow, and was trying to make Liam feel bad and it doesn't _sound_ like something Niall would do, but Liam doesn't know and he just doesn't want to get his heart broken, and.

He doesn't have to say anything, as it seems, because his home phone starts beeping loudly. Liam nearly throws his laptop at Niall in his haste to answer it. He pulls it off the dock and says, “Hello?”

“Liam! Hey, buddy!” it's Drew again, of fucking course it is. The only person on the planet Liam would like to talk to less than Niall right now.

“Drew...” Liam sighs. “How's the dinner?”

He doesn't know why he asks, because he can still hear loud music thrumming in the background, teenagers wildly shouting and, dear God, are they chanting _take it off, take it off_ or are Liam's ears deceiving him?

“Oh, shit!” Drew drags out the 'I' in 'shit,' huffing drunkenly. “Forgot all about it, my man.”

Liam tries hard not to, he really does, but he snaps anyway. “Would you quit fucking calling me everything but my name? Better yet, don't call at all.” Liam can practically feel Niall's concerned stare, and Liam is cringing. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't be a baby, don't cry,_ he's telling himself.

Drew is silent on the other end.

“Oh god, Drew, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—”

“Yeah, you did.” Drew says resignedly.

“No, I didn't,” Liam says firmly. “But you're only fourteen, and—”

“I'm going to be fifteen soon!” Drew protests.

“In ten months, that's not soon.” Liam deadpans. “And anyway, you're _fourteen_ , and you're already getting drunk, and missing _Thanksgiving,_ when you have no good reason, and, are you serious?” Liam stops his rant because he can hear a girl talking to Drew, asking him to come upstairs with her.

“What?” Drew says sarcastically into the phone. “I'm not allowed to bang chicks, just because you don't have a sex life?”

“That made no sense,” Liam says, refusing to lose his temper again. “And why would I tell you about my sex life?” (Liam can hear Niall laughing behind him, and it sounds like he's laughing around a pizza slice so he hopes he's not too upset with how the night is turning out.)

“You don't tell me because it's nonexistent,” Drew teases. Liam can't tell if there's malice in the statement or not. “Now continue your rant, because I've _never_ heard it from anyone ever before in my _entire_ life.”

Liam scowls at the wall but does, in fact, continue his rant. “I'm really disappointed in you, to be honest. You're better than all this.”

“No, I'm not. I'm your dad's son, remember?”

Liam can _hear_ the smirk on Drew's face. Rage flows through Liam once again. Leave it to Drew to make Liam's blood pressure go through the roof. “He's not my _fucking_ dad!” he screams. He can't handle any more fighting, so he yells, “Call me when you're sober.” into the phone and slams it back onto the dock. Liam brings a hand to his face to rub his tired eyes, his lips pursed into a deep frown. He'd forgotten Niall was even sitting there, so it's a definite shock when he opens his eyes to see Niall frozen with a full piece of pizza hovering over his dropped jaw. It'd be comical, if the situation was different. Liam thinks lots of things would be comical if they weren't happening to him.

“So, um,” Liam starts pathetically. “God, I'm so sorry.”

He can't believe he's running out on Niall _again_ , but he _is_ and he can't stop his feet from carrying him to the bathroom. He shuts the door and locks it, sliding down it like an over-emotional teenage girl. He looks up through bleary eyes to see Topaz looking alarmed (or maybe that's just Liam's perception), cocking her ears from where she's seated on the closed toilet lid.

She hops down and crawls over to lay in Liam's lap, which somehow makes Liam feel better and worse all at the same time. Better, because its comforting; worse, because there is a _human_ out there that could be comforting Liam, but instead he's taking it from his cat.

Topaz nuzzles her head into Liam's knee, which makes him crack a small smile. He's able to forget about Niall for a few minutes, until there's a quiet knock at the door, and a shy, “Liam?”

Liam strokes Topaz's back one last time before picking her up and setting her down on the ground. He stands up, wipes his eyes of the few stray tears, and smoothes his shirt down. Slowly, he unlocks the door and opens it a sliver. Then even slower, he opens it all the way.

There's Niall, wringing his hands and smiling nervously. “Are you okay?”

Liam laughs self-deprecatingly “Why aren't you running out screaming?”

Instead of finding it funny, Niall furrows his eyebrows in concern. “Is that what you think I'll do?” he asks. “Because I won't. Promise. And anyway, you didn't even do anything. You yelled at someone, so what? Sometimes I think you forget you're human.”

Without thinking, Liam just surges forward and hugs Niall tightly. As soon as the moment of boldness has passed, Liam pulls away and starts stumbling backwards. He tries to say something but no sounds are coming out of his mouth. “S-Sorry.” he says simply and stares intently at the ground.

“Don't be sorry, idiot,” Niall laughs and stands up taller to kiss Liam on the forehead. “You're adorable.”

“Oh, um. T-Thank. You?”

Niall shakes his head, pulling Liam into another hug. “Didn't know you had a boyfriend.”

Gasping ridiculously, Liam pushes Niall away from him. “A-A boyfriend? I don't have a b-b-boyfriend. I'm not. Um.” he clears his throat. He can't look Niall in the eye. “It was my half-brother.”

“I was joking,” Niall laughs, and Liam doesn't really know why he's surprised. Niall laughs everything off. “I heard you say he's only fourteen.”

Liam stays silent but he's a little less tense now.

“You don't have to explain. Not if you don't want to.”

Liam wants to say something, but doesn't know how so he leaves it alone. “Thanks.” he says instead.

**XXX**

The next morning, Liam is so tired he can barely see right in front of him. He hadn't gotten a single hour of sleep, with calling his mum to Skype, Niall not leaving until two in the morning (he never did find out why he brought a gay movie), and then, when he finally settled down in his warm sheets, not being able to go to sleep.

“Screw it.” Liam says, grabbing his phone and playing Candy Crush. Before he can even blink, an hour has passed and his alarm is going off. He has it set so it starts beeping half an hour before he actually wants to wake up, so that he can hit the snooze button a bunch of times without being late. Instead of hitting the snooze button, though, Liam turns it off and slides out of bed. Sighing, he starts getting dressed, figuring he'll clock in early and go home early in the afternoon.

When he gets to the coffee shop, the door is locked and no one is inside yet. Liam realizes with anguish that he'd forgotten his keys at home. He groans and practically launches himself onto the bench beside the front door. So much for clocking in early.

His eyelids are drooping, because of course he'd finally fall asleep when he's sitting on a park bench, not when he's at home in his comfy, soft bed. Suddenly it's like the Gods have decided to spite Liam today, because the sky opens up and unleashes it's worst: hail.

“What the hell?” Liam says out loud when he feels the first smack of ice on his cheek. He opens his eyes and groans for possibly the millionth time that morning.

He's about to get up and take cover underneath the skimpy awning when a deep voice stops him. (Liam doesn't let himself think, “his voice sounds like honey,” because he hasn't looked up yet, and what if the guy is a creepy old man?)

“Hey, do I know you?” the voice asks. Liam almost snorts in memory of when his dad told him that the best pick up line is exactly what this man just asked him, and then he mentally slaps himself both for thinking of his dad, and assuming that this guy is hitting on him.

Liam looks up, and immediately stumbles backwards, falling back into the bench that he'd just stepped up from. “Fuck.” he mutters. The guy just laughs and sits next to him. (if Liam thinks, “hail be damned,” well, no one needs to know.) Liam finds himself wishing that he'd sat closer. And once Liam has calmed himself down enough to actually look at the guy, he's just as stunned as when he saw him the first time. And then Liam thinks that maybe the guy wasn't trying to hit on him, because he does look familiar.

“Um, I don't. Uh,” Liam stutters. “No?”

“Damn,” the guys laughs. “Thought that'd work. I'm Zayn.”

Liam thinks he remembers a boy named Zayn with caramel colored eyes, distracting him from something, but he can't remember the details. Soon, the memory fades out of his mind anyway.

“L-Liam.”

“Nice to put a name to the face.”

“Oh, um, what. What do you mean?” Liam asks. Now that he's seen Zayn's face, he can't imagine this man ever hurting or stalking anyone, but people are always telling Liam how he's too trusting.

“Sorry, that probably sounded so creepy!” Zayn gives Liam a friendly smile. “I just meant, I've bought coffee here before, and I saw you cleaning a table. Thought it'd be tacky to talk to you then.”

Before Liam can begin to formulate a response in his brain, Louis is racing around the corner yelling, “Shit! Hail! Hail! _Hail!_ Oh, Liam! What are you doing here?”

Liam is sort of upset, but he's also sort of happy he didn't have to say anything back, as anti-social as it sounds. “Hi, Louis.” he mumbles, standing up and waiting for Louis to unlock the door. He turns back to look at Zayn, who's looking a little lost. “Um, Louis, I'll be there in a sec. Can you clock me in?” he hands Louis his ID and sits back down next to Zayn.

Now Louis is the one looking lost, but Zayn is looking like Liam just handed him the sun. Liam will take what he can get.

“Did I overstep?” Zayn asks slowly. “I mean, is Louis your boyfriend?”

Liam can't help but laugh. “N-No. I don't have a boyfriend.”

Zayn smiles brightly. “Then I'll definitely be back,” he says. “See you around, Liam.”

And just as suddenly as he came, Zayn is gone.

**XXX**

The next week passes by quickly. And it isn't that Liam has forgotten the mysterious Zayn, more so that he's not letting himself think about him. He fears that he'll become attached and then Zayn will never show up again. The worst thing that could happen is _hoping_. Hoping that Zayn will come back, hoping that Zayn will become his friend, hoping that Zayn will be more. Hope is dangerous. Hope isn't for people like Liam, because they always let themselves down.

So the day that Zayn does come back, Liam is convinced he's dreaming.

It's Sunday, and Liam is working the front counter when Zayn comes back. He's handing a cookie to a little girl clutching a pink polka dot jacket to her chest. The bell above the door rings, prompting Liam to look up and lose his breath. There is Zayn, in all his tanned skin glory, hopping—no, gliding—into the back of the line.

Liam smiles at the little girl, who takes the cookie and runs back to where her mother is keeping a watchful eye. They walk out of the store, and the next person, a business man, orders his coffee. This, Liam knows. This is what Liam is good at. Liam is not, however, good at talking to his customers. Much less Zayn, who baffles Liam in every way. Who, in just meeting Liam, managed to weasel his way into Liam's heart.

It's when Zayn gets his turn at the counter that Liam begins to really panic. “H-Hi, welcome to Café Noir,” he mumbles, managing to not stutter too badly. He calls that an accomplishment. “What can I get you today?”

“Your number?” Zayn asks cheekily. And then he seems to realize that he said that out loud, and his whole face recolors into a blush. “I mean, uh, just a latte.”

Liam giggles. He's finally not the one making an ass of himself. He turns around and fixes Zayn's latte. When he turns back around, he sees that Zayn has sat himself down at a small table in the corner. Liam bites his lip and searches for a sharpie. Finally finding one, he uncaps it and—quickly, so he doesn't lose his confidence—scribbles his phone number onto the side of the paper cup, sneaking a 'Liam :)' in next to it. Zayn stands up when Liam calls out his name, grabbing the cup and smiling at Liam.

If Liam would've stayed behind the counter and not switched spots with Louis, he would've seen how Zayn's whole face brightened up. He would've seen Zayn programming the number into his phone. And would've seen Zayn bringing his head up to smile at Liam, only to realize he'd left.

**XXX**

Liam is on the plane home to Wolverhampton when Zayn texts him the first time. He can't text back (the flight attendant gives him dirty looks after his phone beeps) so he leaves it in his pocket. And then once he's home, all he wants to do is sleep for eternity.

He's hugging his mum tightly for a long time, and then kissing her on the forehead when a few tears of happiness slip out of her eyes. “Mum, it hasn't been that long.” Liam jokes softly.

She laughs, nodding. “I know, I know. But, well, it was hard without you here.”

Liam knows what she's trying to say; _it was hard without you here to allow me not to talk to your father._ He tries to communicate with more hugs that he's sorry he couldn't be there. After a few more seconds, Liam asks quietly, “Is Dad still here?”

She sighs, “Well. He's staying in a motel down the road, but he hasn't stepped foot in there. He's been sleeping here on the couch. Drew's mum is sleeping down in the basement. And, baby, I meant to tell you earlier—Drew is staying in your room.”

Liam pulls away quickly. “What?” he cries. “You let him have my room?”

“Baby, I had to clean it out sometime, you're never home anymore.”

The surge of anger has passed, and now all Liam feels is sadness and regret. He wishes he could be a little kid again, if only to make his mum happy. He'd do anything to make her happy, and that includes not getting mad at her for giving up his room.

“Right, uh. Is he in there right now?”

“I don't know. He wasn't down for breakfast, but he did that on Thanksgiving too,” she says. “So if he's here, he obviously doesn't want to speak much.”

Liam doesn't know what to say to that, so he just lets his mum continue, because he knows she will.

“I set up an air mattress beside your bed for you to sleep on.”

Again, Liam doesn't know what to say, but he's tired, so he gives her one last squeeze on the hips and then steps back. Liam smiles at his mum and then he's walking up the stairs, down the hallway, and into his old bedroom. It's a bit like walking down memory lane, Liam supposes. (except there aren't very many good memories he associates with this. He thinks of all the times he'd forced himself up the stairs, limping because of some stupid kids at school. He thinks of all the times he'd had to endure hours upon hours of conversations about Drew when he was born. He thinks of all the times he'd watched his mum break down and cry, right on these very stairs. Liam wishes his memory lane was better than the one he got.)

When Liam pushes open the door, he's half-expecting to see Drew sleeping, half-expecting to see Drew banging a chick on _Liam's_ childhood bed. He's not even a little bit expecting to see Drew sitting criss cross on the bed, with tears streaming down his face and seven (yes, seven) beer bottles scattered around the blankets.

And maybe it's selfish, but Liam just wants to _sleep_. He doesn't want to deal with an emotional drunk—an emotional _teenage_ drunk. Still, he feels that since he's half-related to this son of a bitch, he should show a little kindness. (and the truth is, as macho as Liam wants to sound, he's got a soft spot for Drew. He's just a kid, and none of what Liam hates him for was technically his fault.)

“Drew?” Liam asks, causing the boy to whip his head up and swipe at his eyes, haphazardly sweeping the bottles under his blankets.

“What?” Drew slurs. “Is Dad back yet?”

“What do you mean back yet? He left?”

“Yeah, after he—Liam, I don't,” Drew looks down and plays with his hands, shifting his feet and accidentally kicking another beer bottle. (Eight is now the running total.) “He just, said some things, and then j-just left. My mum is in the basement, I went to check on her and she's just, she's a mess.”

Liam feels like he's going to pop a vein if he gets any angrier at his father. “What'd he say?”

Drew doesn't want to say anything, Liam can tell. He keeps stuttering and moving around, almost a copy of Liam's motions when he's feeling anxious.

“He—He just, said I was a disappointment, and that he wishes he'd never met your mum or mine, so that we wouldn't exist.”

“I'll kill him.” Liam states, and then storms out of the room.

**XXX**

After talking to his mum, trying to coax more information out of a now hysteric Drew, and calling up every pub in the neighborhood, Liam still has no idea where his father is. He resolves to wait until he gets back, but fears he won't  _ ever _ come back. 

Liam waits for  _ hours _ until finally, there's the sound of keys jingling outside the front door. Liam sits upright in anticipation. He can see his father walking inside, and is surprised to find that he isn't too drunk to stand. In fact, he doesn't even look wasted. This doesn't make Liam any less angry.

When his dad turns on a tiny lamp is when he sees Liam. Liam stands up and clenches his fists. He'd worry about waking everyone up, but he knows no one can sleep right now.

“One kid wasn't enough? You walked out on one already, now you're doing it again?” Liam means to sound angry, because he is, but instead he just sounds defeated, which he also is.

Liam's dad just rolls his eyes. “I didn't walk out on nobody. I'm still here, ain't I?”

The spark is ignited once again in Liam's heart, and he no longer sounds defeated when he shouts, “You fucking liar! You walked out on me and mum, and you came back after cheating on your wife that never did anything but love you!”

“We were going to get a divorce anyway, Liam.”

“No you fucking weren't you son of a bitch. Mum never stopped looking at you like the sun shined out of your arse, she wouldn't have wanted a divorce until you bloody cheated on her.”

Liam's dad just gives him a look that says,  _ you're beneath me and anything you have to say is irrelevant to me because I'm better than you could ever hope to be. _

“What's done is done, I don't fucking care. You ruined my childhood, so what? But you aren't doing it to Drew. Over my cold ass, dead body. He's a fucking kid, and he needs you. I'm not letting you screw him up like you did to me.” Liam's face feels red-hot with anger. It's like he's nine again, throwing swear words into sentences and hoping they make him sound like an adult; old enough to yell at their father for issues as big as these.

Liam's dad is about to say something in response when they hear the stairs creek to the right of them. They turn around, and Drew is looking like a deer in headlights. “I—I, um. I. Liam, I. I heard you say. Um. You know. You, you care? About me. I mean. I thought you, like, hated me.”

And Liam cannot deal with this right now. “I'm staying at a friend's house.” he says to no one in particular. If his dad was a good dad, he'd maybe say something like, _you don't have any friends,_ or _stay here so we can talk this out,_ or something like that. His dad isn't a good dad, though, so he just shrugs and lazily makes his way to the kitchen, presumably to grab a couple beers.

Drew shakes his head and mutters, “Screw you, Liam.”

**XXX**

Christmas morning harbors the one of the best moments of Liam's life, and one of the worst. Bright and bleary-eyed, Liam drags himself out of bed (he'd bought a couple beers at a gas station last night, but instead of drinking them himself, he ended up handing them to a homeless man before sneaking back home) to make a cup of tea, long before everyone else wakes up. He's yawning while the kettle is slowly heating up, busying himself with checking his phone. He almost gasps when he sees Zayn's text that he failed to return yesterday. Typing up a response— _soz was on a plane, mry xmas!!—_ he hopes that he didn't mess up before things even started.

Zayn doesn't text back, but Liam doesn't really expect him to. It's four thirty in the morning, and Liam has no idea why he's even awake. The sun is still sleeping under the horizon, not a single ray of light beaming into the sky. He'd surely gotten less than five hours of sleep, after falling into a fitful slumber and suddenly waking for no reason.

The kettle whistles just as footsteps pound down the stairs. Liam holds his breath in annoyance. _Why_ , he thinks, _would anyone be awake right now?_

Liam brings his head to look at the intruder, and an oddly strangled noise escapes from his throat. Its Drew, because Liam can never catch a break. Part of him wants to sit down and have an extremely sentimental, meaningful talk, and the other part wants Drew to punch him in the face and move on.

Drew, apparently, prefers the latter because he draws back his arm, and suddenly there's a fist in Liam's face. It hurts, but not too badly because Drew _is_ only fourteen. For that exact reason, Liam resists the strong urge to punch him back.

“You're a dick.” Drew spits.

“I know.” Liam says, because he does know.

Drew just sort of slumps onto the floor, back leaning against the counter. The handles of the drawers are probably digging into his spine, but Liam doesn't feel like pointing out the obvious. Liam slowly sits down next to him, unsure where they stand with each other. Drew doesn't look at Liam, just blinks like he's trying to comprehend something.

“I really don't like you,” Drew says. It should sound threatening or hurtful, but it doesn't. “I wish you were never born.”

“I was born first,” Liam protests feebly. “I should be saying that to you.”

“I don't want to talk, can I just punch you again?”

They're still talking without looking at each other, eyes fixed on different places in the room.

“No, you can't punch me. I didn't even get to punch you.”

“You could've, I wouldn't have been cross.”

“Liar.”

“No bullshit. Punch me then, lets see.” Finally, Drew is turning his head slightly and sort of making eye contact with Liam.

Liam shakes his head and hides a smile. “Are you forgetting about the four years of boxing I took in high school?”

There's more silence then, but at least no one looks like they're about to murder each other. Liam doesn't know what they're doing. He still doesn't even know why Drew is awake, but he's scared to ask for fear of breaking the seal of maybe-kind-of-fucked-up-friendship they have in the silence and hushed insults.

“I'm bringing my friend to Christmas dinner.” Drew says. He's got a different look in his eyes. Liam can't tell if he's happy or scared.

“Girlfriend?” Liam asks.

Drew says no, and doesn't elaborate. A few minutes pass, and Liam is wondering why he didn't grab his tea before he sat down, when Drew finally whispers, “Not girlfriend. Boyfriend. Maybe, I don't. I don't know.”

Liam goes through a great deal of trouble trying to hide his surprise, making Drew roll his eyes. Liam opens his mouth to say something, and then shuts it again. He wants to ask about all the times he bragged about sleeping with girls, and having five second girlfriends, and hanging posters of half-naked girls on his closet door. He doesn't, but it seems like Drew can read his mind because then he's saying,

“I'm, uh, you know. I'm a virgin?” Drew looks away again. “And a really big liar.”

“So,” Liam starts, not knowing what to say about any of this. “So this. Boyfriend.”

“Go suck a dick. I don't need any advice.”

“Just asking when he's getting here.” Liam puts his hands up in surrender.

“Oh. Like three o'clock, I think.”

Liam nods. He's trying to find the right words to say without sounding like a bossy douche. “Don't, uh,” Liam clears his throat. “Don't t-tell Dad, yeah?”

Drew looks like he wants to ask why, but he doesn't say anything.

“Personal experience.” Liam says, by way of explanation. He's not letting himself remember how his dad reacted when Liam told him about his own sexuality.

“Oh,” Drew says, like it's not that big of a surprise anyway. “Want to wake up our mums for presents now?” he asks happily. (Liam remembers being fourteen; caught somewhere between wanting to have your birthday party in a strip club or a rented bouncy castle, so he says yes and they race into their mothers' separate bedrooms.)

**XXX**

Torn wrapping paper is strewn around the room randomly, all of Drew's presents set neatly next to the glowing Christmas tree. Liam's presents (socks and a coffee mug, thanks mum) are sitting lamely on top of the coffee table. Their mums have smiles pasted across their faces, but they both glance at the front door often, waiting for _him_ to come back.

Drew is happy, though, and with every passing second Liam is forgetting why he hated the kid so much. Drew's phone rings from where its sitting on the ground, and he reaches over and answers it. He answers, and says, “Hey, Tom.”

Liam never asked for this (boy)friend's name, but he can tell that's him on the line. Drew is talking with some kind of fondness that Liam never would've noticed had Drew not told him.

“Yeah, you can come over at two,” Drew is saying. “But are you sure you want to spend so much time with my family?” He laughs.

“Two-thirty then,” Drew's mum, looks at him curiously; apparently she wasn't informed company would be over. “Um, you too.”

(Liam doesn't hope and hopes at the same time that Tom just said “I love you,”)

Drew presses the end button on his phone and looks up to meet everyone's eyes. He blushes, to Liam's amazement. He's never seen Drew blush before. “Oh yeah,” Drew giggles. “Forgot to ask. Mum, can I bring a friend over for dinner?”

She shrugs and then turns to Liam's mum. “It's not my house.”

Liam's mum smiles and nods. “Of course you can bring a friend. And Liam, you could call a friend,” she says. Liam is praying that she doesn't ask if he's dating another one of his friends. “What about Louis?”

“He's my boss, mum.”

She frowns and shakes her head. “You're friends too, aren't you?”

 _Not long before I mess something up, though_ , Liam thinks, because he's a sadistic bastard. He just nods instead of voicing his thoughts. “Everyone but Niall is with their family. And Niall was here last year.”

She frowns again, but just nods and says, “Okay, honey.”

Liam feels like a failure.

**XXX**

“Hello, Mrs. Payne.”

Liam cringes as the voice floats into his bedroom, where he's laying on his bed watching Spongebob on mute. It's Tom; he's just arrived, and made the horrible mistake of calling Drew's mum Mrs. Payne.

Everyone always calls her Mrs. Payne. They always assume that she married Liam's dad after having his baby, but that isn't what happened. They tried dating, but it obviously didn't work. Marriage was out of the question. For some reason that Liam has never understood, Drew took his dad's last name, so everyone always calls his mum Mrs. Payne. Wrong.

Liam walks into the foyer soon enough to see Drew's mum frown and, instead of correcting him, say, “You can call me Elizabeth.” with a forced smile.

“Oh, its nice to meet you, Elizabeth.”

Once Liam gets a good look at Tom, he almost laughs. He isn't at all what Liam imagined. He was expecting some kind of muscled, tattooed, rebellious _man_ , but instead he's looking at a guy wearing a sweater vest and glasses. Liam thinks he understands the appeal, though, his face is attractive, and he's obviously polite and friendly.

Liam smiles at him, and Tom smiles back. “Hi, I'm Tom.”

“Liam,” he says. Drew shoots him a look that clearly says _don't be embarrassing_ , so Liam swallows the joke he was planning on cracking. “So do you and Drew go to school together?”

Tom brightens up, obviously happy to participate in a conversation. “Yeah, biology partners.”

 _Aw_ , Liam thinks. _It's just like in the movies._

Drew rolls his eyes and tugs on Tom's arm gently. “Yell when dinner's ready, yeah?”

Liam really, _really_ wants to tell them to leave the door open, or to not be too loud, or that he'll be up to check on them every ten minutes, or. But he doesn't want to embarrass the guy before he even steps foot in the house. And he doesn't know if Drew told his mum who Tom really is to him, which he assumes that he hasn't since he didn't even ask if Tom could come over for dinner.

Laughing, Liam goes to the living room, since he's been kicked out of his room.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, so Liam pulls it out and checks it. There's two texts. One from Louis, sent this morning ( _heyyy liam!! merry chrstmas!!! ps this is harry_ ) and one from Zayn. Liam tries not to freak out while opening the text. It seems to take forever, the little icon of an open envelope mocking him. Finally, Liam is reading it.

_how's ur christmas been? x_

Conversation. Zayn wants to start a conversation. With Liam. (he's not even going to _mention_ the x)

Liam throws his phone onto the couch and then flops down beside it. He can't text back right now, he'd be too flustered and he'd sound like a teenage girl with raging hormones. Not attractive.

So he waits a few minutes, and then slowly types out, _good we opend prsents. got socks :( x_

The reply is almost immediate, but Liam doesn't let himself believe that its because Zayn was waiting for him. _socks?! i at least got a giftcard to target!! x_

Liam doesn't know what to say, and he's stressing himself out. _beeing a adult scks x_

(Is this what they're doing? Putting an x after every text?)

_so ur one of those child at heart people? Whats ur favorite disney movie?? x_

Liam can flirt. He can. _is tht evn a quetion? toy story! wbu? x_

_lion king is a classic. have to go help with dinner now :( merry christmas lima x_

_*liam, sorrrrry!! xxx_

Liam giggles and texts Zayn back a goodbye. And then, like a teenage girl with raging hormones, he falls back onto the couch and stares at the ceiling, Zayn's face running rampant in his mind.

**XXX**

Liam's mum is setting out the plates when Liam steps into the dining room.

“Oh, hey, honey. Help me finish this?” she asks, handing over the stack of plates. “I've got ham in the oven, I overheard Tom tell Drew that he hates turkey, so I just made both.”

Liam shakes his head in disbelief. Only his mum.

He starts setting the plates down neatly, giving himself the plate with a little chip in the side. Then he sets out the silverware. When he's done, he calls out into the kitchen, “Hey, mum? Should I go tell them dinner is ready?”

She yells back, “Sure, by the time they get down here, it'll be on the table.”

Liam slowly and with lots of stomping (to give Drew fair warning) makes his way to his room. The door is shut tight, and there's just a bit of shuffling going on behind it. Liam snorts and knocks loudly on the door. “Dinner!” he yells.

There's laughing. And then, “Okay!”

Liam makes his way back to the dining room, where he helps his mum set the turkey on the table, and then pulls the ham out of the oven. His mum is mashing up some potatoes, while the gravy boils on the stove. Eventually, all the food is set out. Just like Liam's mum predicted, Drew and Tom walk in just as the last drinking glass is set on the table.

Drew's mum comes upstairs too, taking her place at the table. Once she sits, everyone sits, following her lead. Tom sits next to Drew, and Liam has the sneaking suspicion that they're holding hands under the table. When everyone has their food piled on their plates—with only minimal “pass the insert food here please,”—they start eating right away. Tom looks around confusedly. Drew whispers something in his ear, making Tom nod and lift his hands to the table. He bows his head and clasps his hands together, slowly mouthing words to himself.

He's _praying_ , Liam realizes. (Or maybe its not called praying? Blessing the food or something? Obviously Liam has never been a religious person.)

When Tom picks his head back up, and realizes that everyone is staring at him, he blushes and looks down at his food. “Sorry,” he mumbles. Drew practically shoots fondness at him through his eyeballs. “You didn't have to, erm, wait for me.”

Everyone just sort of shrugs and starts shoveling food into their mouths again. Liam stops looking at Tom, but he's curious as to what Drew sees in him. Not that Tom isn't a good guy or anything, just not what Liam would thinks is Drew's type. He realizes he's the only one not eating and frowns, picking up a forkful of mashed potatoes and chewing them slowly.

There's quietness while every body eats, until Drew's mum says, “What classes are you taking, Tom?”

Tom swallows his food politely and smiles. “Algebra two and Honors English, but all my other classes are average.”

When Liam looks over at Drew, all he can see is another blinding amount of fondness. “That's a lie, he tested out of Spanish one and two. And he's in like a billion after school stuff.”

Drew's mum looks sufficiently impressed. “Maybe your work ethic will rub off on Drew.”

Drew and Tom look at each other and laugh. Liam stopped trying to understand.

He's happy for Drew, he is. It's just a little odd how Drew has a boyfriend before Liam, and Drew is just a teenager. Liam feels pathetic, rightfully so, when he realizes that he's jealous of a fourteen year old boy with a fucked up family and a borderline alcohol addiction.

Someone starts talking again, but, embarrassingly, Liam's phone starts ringing in his pocket. He thought he'd put it on silent. Blushing, he pulls it out and excuses himself from the table when he's sees that its Zayn. Maybe that's not polite, but he can't help it.

He accepts the call and holds it up to his ear, saying, “Hi, Zayn.”

“Hi, Liam.” he says teasingly. “How's your holiday?”

“Fine, I guess.” Liam thinks about his dad. Fuck him. “You actually called during dinner.”

“Shit, want me to hang up?”

“No, keep talking.”

He can hear Zayn stifle a laugh, which makes Liam giggle. (Like high school girls, Liam swears to God.) They don't say anything. There's the sounds of little girls squealing and running around behind Zayn. “Are those your sisters?”

“Those are my cousins. My sisters are a bit too old for that.” he laughs.

“So you've got older sisters?” Liam asks.

“Just one older sister. And two younger.”

“Oh, did your older sister ever use you as her Barbie doll?” Liam giggles. “My friend had an older sister when we were younger and she always wanted to do his make up and put him in dresses.”

“Oh God,” Zayn says. “Yes, all the time.”

“Got any pictures?” Liam says jokingly. He can hear his family grilling Tom with more questions back in the dining room, even though they only think he's a friend. They did the same thing to Niall when Liam brought him over last Christmas.

“You're in luck, my mum thought it was hilarious,” Zayn says. “Tons of pictures. I'll send you one. But now you have to tell me something embarrassing so I don't sound stupid.”

“Fine, um... Oh!” Liam cries, remembering something. “You know how everyone always tells you not to eat before going on a roller coaster? Well, the first roller coaster I ever went on, I was ten, and we'd just eaten hamburgers and milkshakes. So I'm sitting there with my mum and I puke all over her on the first hill.” Liam can barely hear Zayn's groan over his own laughter. “Thank God we were sitting in the back, so it didn't fly in anyone's faces.”

Zayn cackles, and Liam is proud of himself. He made that happen, by telling him something dumb that was mortifying at the time (and maybe still now. He doesn't know what it is about Zayn, but he can't bring himself to feel too embarrassed around him).

“My story was more embarrassing than yours,” Liam huffs.

“It was hilarious, quit pouting.”

“I'm frowning at you, but you can't see it.”

Zayn sounds like he's about to say something, when Liam's mum calls, “Liam, who's on the phone?”

“A friend, mum, I'll be out in a second!”

Liam puts the phone back to his ear long enough to hear Zayn say, “Just a friend, huh?” but he doesn't sound mad, just amused.

“Liam, honey, is it a boy or a girl?”

“Mum, please!” Liam yells. “Two more minutes, I promise.”

Zayn is laughing on the other side of the phone, short bursts alternating between chuckles and booming laughter. “I'll call later, okay?”

Liam rolls his eyes and laughs too. “Yeah, okay. Bye, Zayn.”

“Bye!”

Finally, Liam turns off his phone and returns to the table. Liam's mum is looking at him like she wants to ask for more details, and so she tries to, in a round-about way. “Who was that?”

“Nobody, mum. Want some more gravy?” Liam holds out the gravy boat, trying to steer her mind from the conversation at hand. It doesn't work, obviously.

“What's their name, sweetie?” she gives him pleading eyes, lips turning into a pout. She's like a child, Liam thinks. A child that Liam can't say no to.

“Zayn,” Liam relents, just to get her off his back. Again, he tries to change the conversation. “Hey, lets go do something. We could go see a movie, or g-go ice skating, or bowling or something. Lets go after dinner, yeah?”

Everyone looks at each other. Liam's mum says, “Drew and his mum are leaving early tomorrow morning, remember? They have to get to bed soon.”

“Right, yeah. Just a suggestion.” Liam blushes.

Most of the plates are clean, so Liam stands up and starts gathering plates, asking people if they're done or not. They all are. He sets them all in the sink and starts scrubbing the food off with a sponge. In not long time, Liam is done, and slowly making his way back to the dining room.

Though all the food is gone, everyone is still sitting around the dinner table, chatting. Liam hears snippets of conversation (“Tom, have you started driver's ed?”, “Tom, did you like the food?”, “Drew, how long have you and Tom been friends?”) but doesn't really try to jump in. He sits down in his chair from earlier, though, because even if he doesn't care, he has to be nice.

Liam's mum keeps looking at him like she's in on a secret joke, but Liam knows that's just how she looks when she has lots of excited questions. She's waiting until after everyone leaves to bomb Liam with the questions. Like a pesky bird, circling in on a dead fish lying on the sand, Liam thinks.

Soon, Drew starts getting twitchy. He's looking around the room and then down underneath the table (again with the holding hands, it seems) and then to Tom's face. He's still talking and laughing like nothing is wrong, but Liam can see him glance quickly at the cabinet where all the alcohol is located. Tom seems to notice, though, and keeps _accidentally_ brushing his fingers against Drew's arm. Eventually they both ask to be excused and head to Drew's room.

Then its just Drew's mum and Liam's mum, talking about their favorite hair dressers and nail salons. Liam always thought it was funny how well they got along, despite the circumstances. They never fought and there was never too much tension between them, even in the beginning.

But then Drew's mum is going to say goodnight to Drew and Tom, and then she's going to the basement to go to sleep. Liam pouts to himself, because now he's alone with his mum, and he knows that she's going to positively hound him now.

She stays silent at first. And then, just when Liam thinks he might be able to slip off to his—temporarily Drew's—bedroom without confrontation, she starts talking. “So is Zayn your boyfriend?”

“Mum, I—”

“Don't _mum_ me, Liam.” she says. It may have sounded mean if it was coming out of anyone's mouth but hers. “Is he? You can tell me, baby.”

“No, he isn't.” Liam says truthfully. “I just met him, okay?” he doesn't really know what there is to say. They met. They talked. That was it.

“But,” Liam's mum starts. “Do you _want_ to be his boyfriend?”

“I literally just met him, mum,” Liam cries. “I like talking to him, I don't want to have his babies!”

Liam's mum just laughs like he's said the funniest thing in the world. “Well, I would hope not since that dream will sadly never come true. You could date though!” she says with hope leaking into her voice. It just makes Liam feel bad for never giving his mum someone to dote over, like everyone else in the world. He's sure that she wanted grand kids and a daughter-in-law, and he knows that she'll gladly take a son-in-law instead. But it must be disappointing, having a gay son. Even if she isn't disappointed with him, just with life in general. It isn't _fair_ , Liam thinks. He just wants her to be happy, and maybe what she needs is for Liam to get a boyfriend.

Liam just coughs. “I think I'm going to go to bed.”

“Oh, wait until Tom leaves, yeah?”

 _Damn._ Liam had forgotten about Tom and Drew, who are probably making out on _his_ bed right now. _Damn everything._ He's tired as hell all of a sudden, and he just wants to sleep. He supposes, after he walks in on Drew and Tom doing exactly what he guessed they were doing, that its an improvement than when he found Drew drunk and crying. Not much better, though.

“Shit,” Drew mutters when Liam opens the door. “Sorry, man.”

Liam shields his eyes and asks, slightly amused but mostly tired, if they are decent.

“Yeah. Totally clothed. All dressed. Not naked. Very decent.” Tom splutters. And there's the sound of pants zipping up, so Liam gives them another few seconds. Not even turning back to face them, he settles himself onto his air mattress, and laughs a bit.

“Night,” Liam says. And then, “Wait, what time is it?”

Drew gives him a weird look. “Uh, dude, its only, like, eight.”

“Oh,” Liam sighs. “Damn. Well. Goodnight, still.”

From where Liam is lying, he can hear Drew and Tom re-situating themselves on _his_ bed. They aren't making out anymore, Liam can tell, because he hears them whispering to each other while trying to keep quieter with Liam around.

“Why can't you be here with me every night?” Liam hears Drew ask Tom, nearly silent. “I want to stop drinking.”

Anyone could hear the barely-contained excitement in Tom's voice when he answers with, “Then I'll help you,” he says something else, but Liam blocks it out because he feels like he's intruding on a really private conversation. Which, yeah, he kind of is.

Just before he slips off to sleep, Liam's phone pings. He blearily opens his eyes to see his cell lighting up with a picture of a much younger Zayn pouting in a tiara and bright blue eyeshadow.

**XXX**

Seeing his family was like a refresher for Liam, but as soon as he's back in London, sitting in his small flat with Topaz as his only company, the sadness is creeping back up on him. It's bubbling under his skin like a sickness that Liam just can't kick, a permanent piece of him, damning him to a lifetime of loneliness.

He's scratching behind Topaz's left ear when a buzzing sound alerts Liam that someone is asking to be let in. He assumes that its the mailman, but then remembers that the mailman doesn't come up to the doors, just leaves the packages and envelopes in the lobby. Curiously, he kisses Topaz on the head and sets her down, making his way to the door so he can press the button to allow the person up.

When he opens his door, Louis and Harry are standing there, smiling happily. “Hey, Liam!” they both grin. They're holding wrapped gift boxes, which makes Liam panic since he didn't buy them anything.

“H-Hi?” Liam creaks the door open wide enough to let them through.

Once they're both sat down on the couch, Liam cautiously sits down with them. Topaz is happy that he's back, nuzzling her nose into his arm and licking a thin stripe up his bicep. She meows and then curls herself half on top of Liam and half on top of Louis. Just as soon as she lied down, she's asleep.

“Merry Christmas!” Harry giggles and hands him his gift. Its inside red wrapping paper with the word _Liam_ scrawled across the top. Louis gives him another box, smaller this time. Liam laughs when he sees the wrapping paper; it says _happy birthday_ a bunch of times, and Louis wrote in “Jesus” underneath each one.

“Ran out of Christmas wrapping paper,” Louis explains. “Now open them!”

Liam's hands are shaking with worry. He feels like a terrible friend. This is the exact reason he doesn't have friends. He screws it up because he's insecure and figured no one would want to buy Liam a Christmas gift, so he doesn't want to look over-attached and buy them one, _and_. Liam hates himself.

“I-I can't take th-this,” Liam stutters, staring forlornly at the gifts in his hands. “I didn't, um, I didn't buy—”

“We didn't expect you to.” they both say, practically in unison.

Liam bites his bottom lip and then says, “Okay.” He carefully tears the wrapping paper off of Harry's present, since he handed it to him first. Inside is a box for a Snuggie. He furrows his eyebrows, but says thank you anyway.

Harry laughs. “No, look. It's a Snuggie for your cat! And it's bejeweled!”

Nodding seriously, Louis says, “You've got no idea how much effort it took to buy this. We had to get it off Ebay because it's only sold in America, and even then, it's supposed to be for dogs. But whatever. I'm sure Topaz will _love_ it.”

Topaz probably has no idea what is going on, but her ears seem to perk up in amusement. Liam thinks he's going insane because he can't wait to see what she looks like with a Snuggie on.

“Now mine! Oh, Liam, you're going to love it.” Louis nudges his gift that sitting next to Liam, so he grabs it and, just as carefully as Harry's, opens it up.

“Oh my god,” Liam blushes furiously and, without ruining anything because he's hoping he can get Louis to return it, throws the present underneath the coffee table. Louis is cackling and clapping his hands together like a seal. Harry is greatly enjoying it too.

It's a set of porn on DVD. Three different DVDs: straight, lesbian, and gay.

The present is, Liam is sure, definitely intended to embarrass Liam. He isn't really sure if it's good fun or if this is where Louis will become just his manager, and Harry just his co-worker. Like their plan was to make fun of Liam and then leave.

“Uh,” Liam's face probably looks like a tomato. “T-Thank you—um, th-thanks?”

They keep laughing. Louis laughs, “Your face!” and then says, “H-Here's your real present, Liam.”

Liam is confused for a few seconds, and then realizes that they aren't trying to make Liam feel bad and then ditch him, they're just trying to have fun.

“It's not wrapped, but you know.”

When Louis hands it to him, Liam can't help a smile from creeping onto his face. It's a picture of himself, in a frame with the words _Employee of the Month_ written underneath. “Really?” he asks happily.

“Yup, hang it up tomorrow!”

Harry pouts at Louis. “I want Employee of the Month.”

“Then you have to show up more than once a month, arse-wipe.” Louis answers affectionately.

Harry and Louis stay for a while, making conversation more with themselves than with Liam, but he was content with observing. Eventually, Louis looks at the time and tells Harry that they have to go to make it to everyone's houses today. Apparently Liam is one of many people receiving gifts from them.

On their way out the door, Louis calls over his shoulder and says, “The receipt is inside one of the DVD's. Have fun, Liam!”

When Harry and Louis are both long gone, Liam thinks _what the hell_ and cracks open the gay porn, not even reading the title because he knows it'll be stupid. He shrugs and pops it into the DVD player.

**XXX**

Liam doesn't forget about Zayn. He hasn't talked to him since Christmas, but that was two days ago. And Zayn said he'd call. He feels stupid, analyzing his every word, but he's slowly admitting to himself that he's got a crush on Zayn. A huge, fourteen-year-old-girl crush.

He sighs, and checks his phone again. Nothing. He can't stay upset for too long, though, because then Topaz is trotting around the corner, decked out in her bling-ed up Snuggie. She seems to be saying _Liam, take this off, Liam what is this, Liam, Liam help_ so he giggles one last time and then carefully removes it. Once it's off, Topaz starts licking her paw, almost sassy.

Liam pats her on the head. Checking his phone one more time, Liam decides that maybe Zayn is waiting for him to text first. And really, why didn't Louis think of this before? Of course Zayn doesn't want to pull all the weight.

Blushing, Liam scrambles for something to say. He doesn't _have_ anything to say, is the problem, so he decides to send Zayn a picture of Topaz wearing her new Snuggie, a picture he'd taken the second he'd put it on her. A moment after the message sends, he panics and wishes he could take it back. He even looks up on the Internet any possible way to block a message from sending. Zayn is going to think that he's a loser. Which, he guesses he is. And instead of depressing himself further, Liam blocks that thought from his mind.

He slumps onto the couch, whipping his phone across the room (but on the carpet, because Liam is as poor as a college student and he can't afford to buy another phone). He ignores it when it beeps, because it's probably Zayn texting him back saying _haha loser_ or _liam I dont want to date a loser_ and Liam is feeling very pitiful. He always screws things up for himself. It's the only thing he doesn't fail at.

Curiosity gets the best of him, though, so he pulls himself off the couch and makes his way over to his phone. Luckily there's only a tiny scratch at the top of the screen, barely noticeable. Liam opens the message before he can back out and delete it, along with Zayn's contact.

_Aw!! now i want to buy ur cat x_

All Liam can think is _holy shit, holy shit, holy absolute shit._ He remains calm as best as he can, and types back _im starting the bidding at 1 mil x_ because apparently they're doing this flirting thing. Liam has never properly flirted in his life. _How do you flirt while talking about cats?_ Liam thinks.

_Damn. Just out of my price range li x_

**XXX**

When Liam walks into work the next day, he can hear his co-workers—friends?—talking about him in the kitchen area. Or he assumes they're talking about him, unless they know another Liam.

He can hear the words, “Sad” and “Depression, maybe? Anxiety?” and then, “—new friend Zayn.”

Liam wants to count the number of times he's had a panic attack in this very building. The amount probably ranges from twenty to fifty, if he could guess. Strangely, Liam thinks, _I should start writing them down_ , as his vision tunnels and his fingers start to tingle. And then he can't form coherent thoughts, because no oxygen is coming in through his throat. His chest is on fire and his body feels like it's already been burnt to ashes. He hates this.

The one customer in the bakery at the time, an older woman, shrieks quietly like she doesn't know what she's witnessing, and doesn't want to make a scene. Her better judgment wins out, as she runs over to Liam and asks if he needs her to call an ambulance. Liam manages to shake his head no, barely, even though he's still choking on air.

“Just calm down, sweetie, calm d—” The woman reaches out to rest her hand on Liam's arm. She's trying to help, Liam knows, but it doesn't help. It only makes his heart beat faster.

“No, no, no, p-please don't touch—touch me.”

She jerks back her hand with a sour look on her face. “I'm only trying to help. Calm down. My husband is a doctor, I know you need to stop overreacting.”

Liam bites back a retort. Making her mad will just stress him out further. It's almost better to focus on this, anyway, than the fact that his friends were _talking_ about him behind his back. He feels angry at himself for reacting this way, and he's angry at Louis and Harry and Niall for talking about him, and he's angry at the woman for telling him to calm down. He's angry. But he doesn't act on it, knowing it would only make the situation worse.

By then, all three of Liam's friends are out of the kitchen and standing next to Liam. Harry, the one to usually deal with Liam in these situations, is whispering “what can I do?” and asking him if he would rather sit down or go for a walk. He smells like cupcakes and butter cream frosting, a comforting thing for Liam to hold onto in the midst of his panic. Liam points at a chair.

While Harry is grabbing it for him, Liam hears Louis and Niall all-but yelling at the customer, saying, “Why would you tell him to he's overreacting? You wouldn't say that to someone having a heart attack!”

The lady starts up again with her, “My husband is a doctor!” spiel, until finally Louis shows her his manager name badge and asks her to leave. She grumbles and leaves without paying for her coffee.

Liam sits down and hangs his head in his hands. He's still shaking, but at least he can breath again. Harry's curls are down today, not gelled up like they usually are, Liam notices. Harry sees how Liam's eyes aren't clouded over any more and smiles slightly.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks quietly.

Liam stays silent. “Not really,” he says finally. “But, um.”

Three pairs of eyes stare down at Liam, making him shrink back in his chair until they take the hint and sit down in their own seats. Still staring.

“Why—Why were y-you,” Liam breathes in. “Talking about m-me?”

“Shit,” Louis sighs. “It was nothing bad, we promise. We just—we're worried about you, Liam.” he continues. “And we were thinking about asking you to, you know, see someone. Like a therapist.”

Liam _will not_ cry. He's not alone and he won't cry in front of them. He just feels a little betrayed, almost. But that's crazy, he knows, because they obviously want Liam to be happy. He's just paranoid about these things, sometimes thinking they're trying to pawn him off to the first person that will take him. Like they're trying to get rid of him. But Liam knows that's crazy, because Louis would've just fired him if that were the case.

“I-I don't need a therapist,” Liam argues like a child. “I'm fine. I just get—overwhelmed. Sometimes.” Overwhelmed doesn't begin to describe how Liam feels in the middle of a panic attack, but it's the best way he can explain it to them without them taking it the wrong way and _really_ making him go to therapy.

“We know, we know how you feel. It's nothing to be ashamed of—”

“I'm not ashamed!” Liam's cheeks flush with embarrassment, despite his words. “I, I have to go.” he says. He doesn't try moving.

“Liam,” Niall says, the worry in his voice evident because of his thicker accent. “Just want you to be happy, mate.”

“'s not that easy.” Liam mumbles.

“No, but putting no effort into being happy means you never will be,” Louis says firmly. “No one can make you as happy as you can make yourself.”

Liam looks down at his lap. He wants to pretend that he has no idea what Louis is talking about, but he can't. He knows that it's true; he needs to try harder. It just seems like he's been trying for years—trying to be happy and failing every time, even before anything bad happened in Liam's life.

He's about to open his mouth and _maybe_ , possibly agree to seeing someone, but then someone walks through the door. Liam stiffens, turning his body away from the jingling bells behind him. He doesn't want anyone to see him post-panic attack, and what if it's someone he knows?

It isn't just someone he knows. It's worse. It's _Zayn_.

Liam can tell just by the sounds of his boots against the linoleum. That's probably the saddest thing he's ever thought, considering he's only heard these shoes hit these floors once.

“Uh, are you guys not open?” Zayn mumbles when he notices the half-circle the boys have made.

Liam can feel Zayn's eyes burning into the back of his head, and it just heightens his embarrassment. Louis looks at Liam hesitantly before nodding and walking behind the counter. He turns on the register, presses a few buttons, and then asks, “What can I get you?”

“Actually I was just here bec—” Zayn stops. “Never mind, um, do you guys have bagels or something?”

Louis nods again. “Liam, you can go home. Niall, start making the bagels.” he orders. “And Harry, bake that cake for the woman we talked about.”

“No,” Liam frowns. “Give me something to do, I'm not going home.”

Louis locks eyes with Liam. “Yes, you are, babe.”

Liam purposely doesn't look at Zayn. He doesn't want to see the confused look on his face. He doesn't want to worry him either.

“Liam?” Zayn asks quietly, like he doesn't know if its allowed or not.

 _Shit_ , Liam thinks. “Hi, Zayn,” he mumbles, only barely looking at him.

It's embarrassing as hell for Liam. Not only is Zayn seeing him like this—scuffled with messy hair and red eyes and tear tracks—but now he can't even face it like a man. His cheeks flush even further. Liam really wants to go home and hug Topaz for a million years, but. Liam won't leave.

“Um, are you okay?” Zayn asks. He sounds like he's genuinely worried, but Liam doesn't know. He's never heard him worried before so he doesn't have a reference.

“Y-Yeah,” Liam says. “Fine. And I'm not going home.” he directs the end to Louis.

Zayn looks around awkwardly. He opens his mouth once, but shuts it before any sound comes out. “Well, um, do you want to talk outside for a minute?”

Liam nods solemnly. This is where Zayn will carefully tell him, in nicer words, that he's a freak.

He follows Zayn outside, making sure they're standing next to the corner of the building, where the guys inside won't see Liam cry. Not that he's going too. It's just that Zayn was like a ray of sunshine in Liam's rainy existence, and he doesn't really want to lose that. Not yet, at least.

“So,” Zayn says, kicking some pebbles around with his boot-clad feet. It makes a funny clunking sound, something for Liam to cling on to while his panic builds. “What happened before I walked in?”

Liam waits for a moment before answering. “Panic attack.”

“Oh,” Zayn says. “Um.”

Feeling his heart crumble into pieces, Liam nods to himself. “Its—I'm, uh. I'll just go.”

“No!” Zayn cries, practically leaping forward. “Don't go, I'm sorry. I was just, you know, surprised. I'm not judging you or anything. Do people do that? I'll kill them.”

Just as soon as it broke, Liam's heart is pulling itself back together, cementing each piece with happiness. He makes stupid metaphors when he's happy, okay. “Yeah, but you'd kind of have to kill everyone in the UK. Minus, like, Louis, and N—I'll stop talking now.”

Zayn giggles—Liam is _squealing_ on the inside—and steps forward. Liam is tempted to step back on instinct, but he doesn't.

“Not how I imagined our first kiss,” Zayn says slowly, obviously trying to give Liam a chance to step away or stop him. “But, if you're okay with it, I'm going to kiss you now.”

Liam nods. The smile on Zayn's face breaks out into a grin as he leans forward to cup Liam's chin in his rough hands. Liam thinks, just before the other boy presses his lips to his own, that he'll have to buy him some hand lotion some time.

Before Liam can think about anything else, he's kissing Zayn for real. Their lips move together in synch until they both come up for air.

“I think I like you,” Liam says without thinking.

“I _know_ I like you, Liam.”

Giggling in response, Liam leans up against Zayn for one more kiss. More of a peck, but it still flutters the butterflies in his stomach.

Of course that's when Louis decides to come check on Liam. “Oh!” he cries. “Oh, sorry, wow! Zayn, your bagel is done. Liam, Harry wanted to know if you ordered more pink food coloring, but it isn't important. Carry on, lovebirds!”

Liam's eyes widen, trying not to panic. He knows that Louis isn't homophobic (hell, Liam was sure he was banging the boss) but it's his natural instinct. He thinks that Zayn can sense it, because he slowly reaches his arm down and brushes his fingers against the smooth skin of his wrist. “Good?” he asks.

Liam nods and looks at Louis. His manager gets the message and practically skips back into the bakery. Liam can hear him yell, “He's found love!” but he doesn't even care. Because this is Zayn, who he feels like he's known forever, and it's Louis, who he _has_ known forever but is just now really knowing him, and it's Niall and Harry, who he wasn't close to but they stop his panic attacks and buy him pizza, and.

Liam was never really alone, he realizes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: ourlarrys  
> (And yeah, I know Liam wouldn't have had a cell phone when he was nine, but pretend its possible.)


End file.
